His eyes were tearing up; he was almost desperate to know if she was just pulling a nasty prank, but Sharmaine kept silent. She only gave him a legitimate hint, not answers to his question. She stared at him with his eyes that looked down, and wondered what had happened before her accident. If she was just able to wake up with fresh memories, then she would've made something to feel this man better.
But, she didn't.
While she stared at this nameless man in front of her, another caught her attention. He was the same young man that talked on the stage. Charming, brilliant, a genius—the perfect group of words that fit the man's name, who, so happens to be, a man with so much courage to talk to her mother.
They must be friends, she thought. She did not really know anyone in the space she stood nor was there any reason for her to stay beside this silent man she glanced upon with emotionless eyes. It was not like she didn't care; it was just that she couldn't relate to his emotions in any way.
"Would you mind if I leave now?" she said with a gentle voice. She hesitated in taking her step, but seeing as the man was still and unable to response, she took slow and quiet steps until someone reached out for her hand. It was such a gentle touch.
"Stay," he said, "Please." His voice quivered; his hand trembled. It was a truly sad sight to see. As a father, who had not known anything in the past six months, it struck him hard that he wasn't even able to even see an ultrasound nor something that could remind him of what they made—his uncalled and unrequited love.
Sharmaine took her time to embrace the man. She did know him nor his name, but the normality she felt with him was heart-warming. His hug was familiar, and, most likely, one that she might've gotten often in the past. A few minutes passed by, and the man unclasped his arms; his cheeks slightly wet from his silent tears.
"Are you okay?"
The man nodded his head, letting Sharmaine leave the area. She was still as beautiful as the day he met her. Warm eyes, comforting words and her sweet lips were the ones he missed as he regretted ever letting her out of his apartment.
As Sharmaine wandered around the dark vicinity, the aroma of food filled her nostrils. It came from the catering table nearby that was filled with fancy and truly mouth-watering dishes. To her surprise, her stomach wasn't craving anything, so she opted for red wine instead.
She stood there, gazing through the hall and the boisterous people on stage as she sipped her wine gradually until she noticed a familiar figure in her peripheral. He was the man, who spoke to her mother, standing a meter away. She gave a warm smile, which seemed to have surprised the man.
The air that surrounded them was very much like the last person. It was warm and comfortable as if she'd known him for a long time. Suddenly, another memory flash made her head ache a little. The details were very vivid, but the faces were blurred.
Everything she thought of was sliced through by the man, who asked her if they'd met. He was a great man, however, it bothered her that he might as well be the very same man, whose face was blurred. His stance, voice and tone were all the same, and her distractions seemed to be always swayed when he talked.